Release
by grace.rizkallah.7
Summary: Dean and Cas don't have the most conventional relationship. Then again, they aren't exactly poster boys for conventional. Pretty much what happens when Dean and Cas end up in a Dom/sub relationship that helps them realise they love each other... Pretty much smut.


Release

Set in Season 9- Mark of Cain era, but with human Cas. Cas never leaves the bunker and April doesn't exist. Oh and Gadreel comes and fixes Sam, but then leaves, but Sam is still super pissed about it.

Dean and Cas never 'got together' in the conventional sense. There was no flirtation, no declaration of feelings, no whispered promises of eternity. But then, Dean and Cas could never be defined as conventional in any sense of the word.

Instead, there was a series of shouting matches, starting shortly after Cas arrived at the bunker, freshly human. The fights covered a range of topics including the correct use of the coffee filters and whether Cas should be allowed to hunt with them. Sam tried to dissect these fights, tried to get them to talk it out, but after a while of Cas' clueless stares and Dean's intolerance to feelings, he gave up.

It ended when Cas shoved Dean into the kitchen wall, screaming "Dean! Stop pushing me away!" to which Dean promptly replied, "Then stop leaving!".

There was a moment where they just stared at each other. Cas with his eyes wide and wet, panting from the exertion of human emotions. Dean with rage and confusion splattered across his face, fists clenching and unclenching. They stared for that moment, searching in each other's eyes for the answers they didn't know they wanted.

_I need you with me._

_I'll never leave you._

But they never said the words. After years of inappropriate staring turned desperate yearning, words no longer seemed necessary.

They moved at the same time, Dean grabbing Cas' face with his hands, Cas shoving Dean back into the wall, lips crashing together in a brutal display of need. There was no finesse to the kiss, no slow movements and skilled tongue- things that Dean may or may not have dreamt from time to time. Build up was a luxury for couples who were getting to know each other, trying to woo each other. But they had long gone past that point. They knew everything intimately, knew each other's flaws to a fault, had already been trapped in a whirlwind of emotions. Build up was no longer needed.

Instead they pressed against each other hard, arms grabbing and holding, scratching and pulling. Lips searching for release, teeth clacking. Dean ran one hand down Cas' back, grabbing his ass and using it as leverage to grind against him. His other hand found itself in Cas' hair and he pulled at those unruly locks and Cas just released this strangled whisper that had both of their cocks twitching.

Cas gaped at him, like he didn't know his body could release such a sound. Dean looked at him questioningly, but when Cas hadn't averted his gaze he pulled the hair again, using the action to angle Cas' neck towards him. Dean didn't even kiss his neck, he went straight into sucking and biting, watching with lust filled eyes at the bruise that was starting to bloom. Heat pooled low in his groin at the idea of marking Cas, of searing his mark just like Cas had seared his shoulder.

Dean continued to work on the bruise, laving it with his tongue, nipping and then watching it momentarily fade. Cas was a mess. His body was twitching with sheer need, face contorted in inescapable pleasure, skin flushed and damp, cock straining against his jeans.

Dean licked his way up Cas' neck, taking time to nibble at his jaw before working his way to his ear. He licked at the rim, catching in his teeth and pulling, drawing a stuttered moan from Cas, before shoving his tongue in. Cas howled, trying to push away from the sheer pleasure, unaccustomed to the assaulting pleasure in his body. Dean growled and held Cas firmly by his hair.

"_Submit."_

Cas went limp, completely pliant, to the point where he slipped out of Dean's grasp and slid to his knees, eyes gazing hungrily up at Dean.

From that moment on, Cas and Dean entered a relationship of sorts. Definitely not a conventional one, but a relationship nonetheless.

Months later, they had never talked about their relationship, let alone uttered anything along the lines of 'love' to each other. At first it was because Cas didn't know what he should say, how he was meant to behave, and Dean not knowing how to break the cycle of dysfunctional relationships chose not to admit that he was in one to begin with. But then it morphed into an unspoken agreement, something so above the need for words.

They didn't need to say it, but Cas knew he was Dean's. Anyone that approached him with more than friendly intentions also ended up knowing it in no uncertain terms. But they didn't talk about that. Just like they didn't talk about Dean ceasing his one night stands with nameless, faceless women. Just like they didn't talk about the fact that Dean moved Cas' belongings into his room one night. Just like Sam pretended not to notice.

Somehow, without even saying it, Dean and Cas were in a relationship. More than that, they were in a 'mutual need'. It was long past simply wanting each other, or even loving each other, it was pure; simple need.

And so when Dean gets a call from Cas after finishing up a hunt in some middle of fucking nowhere town in Missouri, he's not surprised to hear,

"Eclipse me. Please."

"Sam and I will be back tomorrow. Be prepared."

Cas still wasn't allowed on hunts with them, not until Dean was 100% certain he was ready. Instead he manned the phones and continued researching. Dean wasn't about to risk what was his.

On the drive back, Dean pondered his options, rifling in his mind through ideas on how to dominate Cas, how to have him submit completely and wholly for him. Because that's what he had asked for. _Eclipse me. _Asking the moon to take over, letting the sun rest from its responsibility of giving light and nurturing life. Letting itself be taken over. They hadn't talked about using those words. One day Cas had just said them and Dean had understood.

He understood that Cas had been given responsibility time and time again, despite never desiring it. That despite his good intentions he had fucked up, on numerous occasions. That he just wanted to do something right in his life. He also knew that adjusting to human life was difficult, not just because of the inherent adjustment that was to be expected, but also because of the guilt about the angels falling.

Cas didn't talk about it a lot. He didn't have a good role model in that area. But sometimes he woke up screaming, back arched in agony, trying to keep his wings from being ripped out. And when he thought about the same happening to his brothers and sister he would go to the bathroom and huddle in the bathtub, letting tears slip down his cheeks.

He was so very tired of failing everyone, for being a disappointment. Even though he was human now, he wanted nothing more than to serve, to do something right.

And being with Dean, being submissive for Dean, _that _he could do.

After parking the Impala in the bunker's garage, Dean mumbled something about catching up later for dinner to Sam before walking directly to his room. His and Cas' room.

Checking that Sam wasn't behind him he knocked four times in rapid succession, waiting a moment before entering the room. Cas was where he expected him to be. On the ground, at the foot of the bed, on his hands and knees.

What he wasn't expecting was Cas' outfit.

Dean had found Cas in this position countless times, often naked, often with a collar. Sometimes with a blue tie around his neck. Sometimes with glasses. But never like this.

Cas had a tight white blouse on, clearly from the women's section, almost obscuring the collar around his neck. He was also wearing a short tartan skirt that barely covered his ass in this position. And to top it off, he was wearing white stockings- not the thigh high ones- the ones that went all the way up.

Cas didn't look up, but Dean could tell that he was blushing furiously.

Without a word Dean reached under the bed, grabbed a box and took it with him into the ensuite. He undressed, throwing his blood and gunk covered clothes in a pile, before stepping into the running shower. He lathered his body with soap, paying particular attention his his already thickening cock. He smiled fondly at the thought of Cas' collar.

He had gotten it for Cas a month after they started their 'mutual need'. Cas never commented about how it was an anniversary or that Dean had actually remembered it, but when he saw the collar- perfect black leather with a blue gem indented into it- he smiled. When he saw the inner inscription; _Mine_, he cried and threw his arms around Dean. To know that he belonged, not just in the human race, but as Dean's, was more that he ever expected.

He wore it most of the time now, and to Sam's horror, he even wore it outside the bedroom. But Cas had no shame, no years of societal conditioning to give up the collar. For him, Dean would never need to say 'I love you', because in his own way, he already had.

Dean turned off the taps and briskly dried himself, giving himself a once over in the mirror. Cas' handprint was still there, beautiful as ever. His own collar. Because he didn't even try to kid himself, he needed Cas as much as Cas needed him.

He'd always been given the short end of the stick in life, given no alternative but to follow it. Dad dragged him out hunting, dragged him around the country. Dean had no choice. Sam left for Stanford. He made it clear that Dean didn't have a choice in that either. Dean sold his soul to save Sam, but even that choice was taken from him when Cas dragged his ass back to earth. Sam and the demon blood. Being an integral part of the apocalypse. Sam without a soul. Purgatory. Gadreel.

No choice. No choice. No choice.

Being able to take Cas. Being able to bind and gag him, or just to pin him down and ravage him. Being able to decide how he was going to take Cas. It gave him choice, it gave him freedom. It gave him control.

But more than that, it gave him the ability to be himself.

With Cas there was no shame, no judgement. There was only exploration and pleasure.

He picked up the box and set it on the counter, running his fingers over it. Cas had given it to him a month ago.

"_When you're ready, you can open it."_

"_How will I know when I'm ready?"_

"_One day you'll open the door, and you'll know."_

Dean had forgotten about it until today. Seeing Cas in his innocent school girl outfit had sparked that memory. He couldn't wait to see what Cas thought he was ready for.

As he lifted the lid he half expected to see a professor's outfit, not unlike Cas' 'holy tax accountant' look. He drew in a breath when he saw what it really was. The top of the ensemble was a white shirt, similar to Cas', but it stopped just below the bust line and became a leather corset, and then became a tight leather skirt.

He slipped it on, thankful to see that it was already laced up and only required hooking at the front. He looked at himself in the mirror, turning his body to see the back as well. The corset narrowed his hips, but his shoulders stood out in the cap sleeve shirt, somehow making him look masculine and feminine all at once. Somehow he knew that that was exactly what Cas had in mind when he picked it out.

Next in the box was a garter belt already attached to some sheer black thigh high stockings. Dean sat on the edge of the toilet and carefully slid the stockings up his leg, relishing in the soft material that seemed to excite all his nerve endings. With the garter in place, he snapped the straps connecting it to the stockings and took out the last item from the box.

Shiny black heels.

Dean bit his lip as he held them in his hands, unsure as to when he let on this particular kink to Cas. Bastard probably read his mind when he was an angel. Probably already knew about Rhonda. And about countless nights alone after her.

He stepped into them slowly and then had another look at himself in the mirror. His ass and legs looked amazing. The heels perked up his ass under the leather skirt and there was only a strip of skin in between the top of the stockings and the bottom of the skirt.

He ran a bit of mousse through his hair, straightened out the corset and went back into the room, finding Cas in the exact position that he left him in.

He walked over to Cas' head, standing with legs spread in front of him. Cas kept his head down. Dean smiled. He knew his role.

Dean bent over Cas, running his hands down Cas' back, feeling him, touching him. Letting him know that he was safe. That he was good. He toyed with the waistband of the skirt, pulling it up so that Cas' stocking clad ass was exposed. Dean touched him there too. Just soft caresses, fingertip touches to tease and excite.

Dean straightened back up and lifted his foot to Cas's face. Using the toe of his shoes he lifted Cas' face to look at him. Cas' mouth was slightly open, lips dry and chapped, pupils blown with lust. But he didn't say anything. He knew his role.

Dean placed his hands at his hips, feeling the leather beneath them. He slowly began to pull up the skirt and he could see Cas' mouth open a little wider in anticipation. When he pulled the skirt over his cock it bounced free, nearly slapping Cas in the face. Dean smiled at the thought.

Cas leaned forward, so eager to lick and suck and please, but Dean gave him a low growl to keep him in his place. Instead he touched himself, stroking his cock, taking his time while looking at Cas. Cas and his eagerness to suck cock. Cas and his perfect ass bent over. Cas and his pretty cock that was trapped in his stockings.

Precome began to gather at his tip and a drop fell to the ground. Dean could see Cas struggling not to lick it.

Dean gathered some more precome in his fingers, spreading it around his fingertips, getting them nice and wet. Then he reached down and ran his fingers across Cas' lips, spreading the pliant lips open, covering them in his slick. Cas let out a whimper, licking where he could reach, just so he could taste. Dean took his cock and touched the tip to Cas' lips, leaving a fresh trail of slick, which Cas continued to lick. So Dean moved beyond his lips. Slowly, while stroking his cock, he covered Cas' cheeks, his jaw and his neck. He was wet and shiny and dripping of Dean and the thought made Dean's cock throb angrily in his grasp.

He reached down and grabbed Cas by his collar and dragged him to kneel in front of the bed. Dean sat on the edge and hooked his legs over Cas' shoulders so that he could have easy access.

Cas nuzzled his way up Dean's legs, appreciating the thigh high's with soft sighs. He didn't spend too long kissing at the juncture between his thighs and groin and instead focused on kissing and licking Dean's cock. His hands were behind his back, knowing that he could only use his mouth. He waited patiently until Dean tensed his cock so Cas could quickly wrap his lips around the head. He moaned at the taste in his mouth and quickly began to suck in earnest. He loved having Dean in his mouth, loved knowing how to please him, how to make him come down his throat. He bobbed up and down, increasing his speed and depth. After a few minutes he slowed down almost to a stop and took Dean deeper and deeper until he could feel him hit the back of his throat. He relaxed and sank further until he had taken him to the hilt. Dean bucked and groaned at the sensation causing Cas to gag and pull up, leaving a string of saliva connecting his lips to Dean's cock. He sat back on his heels, expecting to be punished but when Dean saw how wrecked Cas looked with his spit slick lips he couldn't help but gently caress his cheek.

Then he pulled Cas up by his collar and positioned him on the bed so that his ass was in the air but his head was pressed down onto the bed.

Dean looked at the stockings Cas had on with some irritation. Why hadn't he worn thigh highs so that he could have easy access to his hole? But as he looked closely he could see that there was a small hole already in the stockings. Dean pushed in a finger into the opening and ripped the stockings open, creating a rather large hole around Cas' ass. Pleased at the result and Cas' moan, Dean knelt behind him and pulled Cas' cheeks apart.

There, all furled and puckered was Cas' perfect pink hole.

Dean lowered his face towards it, kissing and biting around Cas' ass before finally giving it a long lick.

Cas howled but quickly forced it into a quiet whine. The whines and whimpers, moans and groans all continued as Dean assaulted his hole. He licked around it, shoved his tongue into it, sealed his lips around it and sucked- anything to make Cas moan like a whore.

When Cas was shivering from need and his hole was slick and ready, Dean pushed in a finger, breaching that hot tightness, feeling Cas clench and then relax around him. He took it out, added some lube to his fingers and then pushed one back in. He began to work it in and out, stretching and stroking. When Cas was ready he added another and began to actively graze his prostate. Cas' moans were louder now, no longer able to be controlled, and Dean loved it. Let the world know that Cas belonged to Dean Winchester.

After Cas had begun thrusting back on his two fingers, Dean added a third and Cas hissed at the burn. With his other hand Dean traced Cas' rim to relax him and in a few minutes Cas was back to writhing on his hand.

Finally Dean withdrew his fingers and slicked up his cock. There was no need for a condom anymore. They were each others. There was no one else. There could be no one else.

Dean teased Cas' rim with his cock for a moment before pushing into that tight heat, slowly until he bottomed out completely. He gave Cas a moment to adjust, taking the time to breathe deep and calm himself before he came right then.

Cas pushed back against him and Dean knew he was ready. Without further notice he began pounding into Cas, hands on his hips, pulling him back into his thrusts. Cas wailed, no longer capable of holding it in. His mouth hung open and Dean drilled into him, fucking his hole, and all he could do was moan.

Dean changed his angle and made sure that every thrust slammed into Cas' prostate making him howl. He knew he wouldn't last long, Cas just looked and sounded beautiful like this- completely wrecked and completely his. He pulled Cas up by the collar, pressing him against his body as he kept fucking into him. With one hand holding his collar and the other feeling his cock trapped in his stockings, Dean leant forward to Cas' ear, panting harshly before speaking.

"_Mine."_

Cas threw his head back, opened his mouth and came with a wordless cry, soaking the inside of his stockings.

His ass clenched around Dean, sucking his cock in further and Dean couldn't resist. Three more thrusts and he was groaning into Cas' ear as he came, emptying his come inside Cas.

They collapsed on their sides, panting, Dean holding Cas tightly. After a moment he pulled out of Cas, feeling his come drip out of him. Part of him thought about getting a towel and cleaning each other up before the sheets needed to be washed. But then he thought about spreading Cas' cheeks in the morning and finding him all stick with come and needing to lick it out of him. The latter part won out and he pulled up the sheets over them, pulled Cas close and promptly fell asleep.

It may have started out strangely. It may have been borne of the need for release. But somewhere along the way they became themselves and it became about love.

Not that they would ever say it.

The end.


End file.
